


A Night By The Lake

by Rosebudwhite



Category: Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosebudwhite/pseuds/Rosebudwhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mary Shelley – what was she like?” Asked Eve.<br/>“She was delicious.”  Adam replied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night By The Lake

**_June 1816_ **

What went on in the house by the lake for those three days of the summer storms have passed into urban legend.  Tales told of drink, drugs, and debauchery.  One outcome is a story known the world over, the second is not so famous, yet still as significant.  However who would have thought that that story was influenced by the unknown sixth at the party, the _Vampyre_.

——-

“Take all the sweetness of the laudanum, my darling.”

Mary rolled over away from the warmth of the fire and as she gulped down the heady wine mixed with the drug, she stared into Percy’s eyes .  They were as unfocused as her own and she giggled in response.  Percy pulled her into a deep kiss and their gentle moans of enjoyment filled the drawing room as they embraced under the pile of furs and blankets.

Byron stood from his chair with difficulty.  “The lovers bore me.  What amusement shall this storm bring us?”  He reached for the brandy and refilled his glass.

“A contest!”  A slurred voice came from a couch.

“Learn’ed doctor, a contest of strength, I will not win.”  The warm liquid swirled in the glass and the exiled Lord took a swig.

Percy extracted his arms from his lover.  “A contest of the mind, of the imagination, then.  You would win that hands down.”

“I think it would be a fair contest, we are all well matched in the business of words.  What say you our quiet friend?”

From beneath another pile of furs, Adam pushed the semi-unconscious form of the runaway actress off him.  He pulled her dark hair across her neck and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the candlelight.  “Your tales always amuse me, cherie, I would like to hear all your stories.”

"Then that is settled.”  Byron practically clapped his hands with glee.  “We shall tell stories to excite the mind and the blood."

——-

As Percy told tales of monsters and devils, Mary looked over at the sprawling form of the man known to them as Adam.  Her blood boiled every time she looked at him.  His form excited something within her that even Percy had yet to discover.  That dark craving for more than just that illusive release.  A wanton pounding that threatened to melt her body.

The man had come into their lives through a bizarre set of circumstances in Calais, but there was something about him that made Mary hesitate to even use the word ‘man’.

She fell into a slow stupor that the long afternoon allowed them all, and time passed with no one caring.  The call for dinner was met with muted groans.  They knew their bodies could not be sustained by morphine alone.  As had become his ritual, Adam left them to eat, he would dine alone in his room.

Mary stood as the others did yet swayed into her lover’s arms.  ”The nausea overcomes me.”

"Let me help you to bed."  Percy began to lead her to the staircase.

"No, no.  Leave me, I am well enough to make it up the stairs.  Go enjoy the meal.  I will join you again later."

Reluctantly Percy let her go.  She had no ulterior motive as she started to climb the stairs.  Yet before she reached the top her mind had been set on seeking out Adam.

As she rounded the corner she stopped short.  Adam stood at the door to his own chamber.

"Have you eaten?”  She asked, not realising the words were out of her mouth before her mind had caught up.

He strode forward, stopping only inches from her face as her eyes turned to look at him in such close proximity.  At this distance his black hair, tied back in a fashion long left behind, left his stormy blue eyes bright and wide, and it made her feel like he was the most exquisite creature ever to walk the earth.  His scent invaded her nostrils, a mix of fire and earth and blood and flesh.  His smell was so intoxicating and his eyes, those captivating blue orbs that glowed so fiercely, they frightened her, but she found herself unable to look away.

"Not yet."  His strong hands slid around her waist slowly, she was his.  She strained up to brush his lips with her own softly before retreating to his grasp.  His breath hissed out slowly as he glared at her, outraged by her daring action.  His anger was only surpassed by his arousal.

After staring into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity, he bent, his eyes never leaving hers, to pick her up gently and carry her into his bedroom.  He laid her down carefully before backing out of her grasp.  Shrugging out of his house coat, her eyes dropped to his perfect form, outlined wonderfully in his white shirt and dark riding trousers.  She let out a sigh and sat up, reaching for him, but then abruptly stopped, looking up for his approval.

His gaze dropped to her outstretched fingers, trembling in anticipation and need, then slowly climbed back to her face, nodding slowly.  She reached the final few inches and let her fingertips graze his hardened stomach, then trail down to his waist, the muscles bulging against her touch.  She stood in front of him and tremulously reached for the first cord by his pale neck, undoing it, and slowly reaching for the next, again and again until his shirt hung open in her view.

She looked back up to his eyes, those piercing eyes, and knew what he wanted.  After letting her skirt fall to the cold floor and stepping out of them, she turned around, holding her hair free of her own clothing ties.  His hands slid once again to her waist, gently pulling on the corsetry and removing it over her head, discarding it quickly.  Her undergarments soon followed, leaving her completely exposed, panting under his unnatural gaze.

Discarding his own shirt, he backed her onto the bed and smoothly pushed her shoulders back until she was resting flat on the soft mattress, her hips at the edge.  She felt his cool hands run along her warm skin.  She glanced down tentatively to see his eyes watching hers as he approached her, kneeling.

She cried out as his tongue slid along her wet opening, his saliva mixing with her wetness and immediately throwing her into a frenzy.  Her impulse to rise and meet his tongue was halted by his hands on her hips, holding her down and still, away from his soft tongue.

She whimpered as he stood, an intense smile on his angelic face, though he was far from an angel.  His trousers joined her clothes on the floor as he stepped closer.  His erect member was like something from a fantasy, its impressive length only outdone by his thick girth, extruding proudly in front of his pale form.  She gasped when she saw it, and again when she realized how much it would hurt.

"I-," she started, but stopped when she saw his finger fly to his pouted lips.

"No words," he whispered softly, "I’ll go slow."

He aligned himself with her aching opening and slowly parted her with his enormous member.  She moaned as she felt it enter her, stretching with the best ache she had ever known.

He kissed her as it slid deeper, ever so slowly, and she thought of the times she had seen him watching her from the shadows, a corner, a dark room, hiding him from view.  The times she would noticed him studying her, his eyes so memorable among the sea of chaos that the opiates brought.  She remembered his gaze, so penetrating, so invasive, yet every time she had been unable to look away, unable to tear her eyes from this dark stranger who was never there in the daylight hours.

She realized then that he was fully inside and had started to pull out again, faster.  The first few tentative strokes were gentle and caring, making sure she was all right, but then the pace got faster, so fast she found herself unable to keep up.  She clung to him helplessly as he thrust into her, their hips colliding and her gasping every time he filled her.  She got closer to climaxing as he thrust harder, holding her head against his neck as he pressed his mouth against hers.

As the first waves of her orgasm ripped through her shaking body, she felt his teeth penetrate the soft flesh of her neck.  She gasped as she felt the pressure of him devouring her blood, all the while still thrusting inside of her.  The pleasure was so intense, too intense as the ecstasy washed over her.  The pressure turned into blinding sensation as he came inside of her pulsing opening.  She held on barely breathing as his pace slowed and the pressure subsided.  He finally stopped, remaining inside of her and licking her neck gently as the blood slowed.

Sliding out, he laid her down gently, scooping her legs up onto the bed as he pulled down the blankets.  She stared into his glowing blue eyes, now brighter than ever, as he climbed onto the bed beside her, pulling the soft blankets over her shivering body.

He had not drunk much, but enough that she felt it.  Her eyelids grew heavy as he kissed her again.  She could taste her blood on his tongue as it softly caressed her own.

He caressed her face as she lay in his arms, slowly drifting off to a deep dreamless sleep.  ”You are delicious.”

——-

Doctor Polidori took a step back from the spy hole, his now flaccid cock pulsed in his hand.  “What do we do?”

"Do?"  Lord Byron looked at the man beside him as if he were mad, as he stuffed his own member back into his trousers.  "We do what all good writers do; we immortalise the bastard."

 


End file.
